


We're Not Guardians

by sumChick



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Amputation, Hurt/Comfort, Jack is a BAMF!, Jack isn't a Guardian, Love, M/M, Pain, Protective Jack, Slow Build, Trust, lonely pitch, severed limbs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-24 01:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sumChick/pseuds/sumChick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack doesn't stick around after Pitch gets dragged down into his lair by his Nightmares after the final battle, he follows him and protects him. He doesn't take the Guardian oath, choosing to protect Pitch instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You'll be ok.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own any of these characters. Just writing more fanfiction :)

“Looks like it’s your fear they smell.” Jack Frost smirked as he stepped forward.

Pitch took a step back. The Nightmares whinnied menacingly and all of a sudden Pitch was running but the Nightmares were running faster. For a moment, and just for a moment, he thought he heard Jack yell his name. But then all he had time for was trying to escape his Nightmares.

Swirling black sand caught him and pulled him down. He screamed out as the Nightmares caught him and tried to claw the round to get away but he could feel hooves and teeth digging into his legs and pulling him further down. He was pretty sure he ripped off a couple of his nails as they forced him back into the darkness of his lair. He never thought, as the darkness sealed off the entrance to his lair, that he would yearn for the light as he does now.

There was pain. No, there was agony. It was as though he was being ripped to pieces with hooves and fangs. He was bleeding and screaming and it had only been a few minutes. It already felt like an eternity. Pitch knew that the torment would not end quickly. It would last as long as Pitch was afraid and right now… he was terrified. He only wanted to exist. He didn’t want to hide. Why did it always come to this? Why did he always have to suffer like this? He wouldn’t die from these injuries but spending weeks, even years, being torn to shreds by his Nightmares he only wished he could. And that was making him even more afraid.

He screamed again and he could taste blood in his mouth, he’d already screamed his throat raw. Another kick broke one of his ribs and he couldn’t help crying out once more despite the blood in his throat. His skin burned from hundreds of cuts and his entire body felt bruised.

A sudden cool breeze was a cruel relief, taunting Pitch with how soothing it felt against his abused body. But it didn’t go away. Instead it got colder and although it was naturally cool in Pitch’s lair the temperature plummeted quickly to unnatural depths.

It was almost freezing and soon the wind was screeching and howling menacingly through the tunnels as well. The wind shouldn’t be down here. This was followed by a bright light and an intense, electric, crackling sound. The Nightmares closest to Pitch screamed and reared back from their broken prize before disappearing into the shadows.

It was snowing and it felt delightful on his skin. “Pitch?” A gentle voice washed over him as soothing as the snow. “Oh Pitch! Can you talk? Are you ok?” It was a voice that Pitch could never have imagined sounding so gentle, so caring, least of all when directed at him. “Hold on. They’ll be back soon but I’m not going to leave you, I’ll protect you ok? I think it’s about time someone took care of you.” The last part seemed more directed inwards than to Pitch.

Pitch let out an involuntary groan as cold hands wrapped around his shoulders and lifted him up. He managed to open his eyes to see that Jack wasn’t looking at him. He had one arm around Pitch but the other was holding his staff tightly and staring off into the shadows. The Nightmares, he could hear them whinnying impatiently. Watching. Waiting for the moment to strike.

“Dammit. There are too many. I need to get you somewhere safe.” A quiet creak echoed around the cave they were in and they both looked up. The cages. Pitch didn’t realize that he’d been dragged so far into his lair. Jack had come a long way to find him. “Alright. You’re not going to like this.” He turned to Pitch and smiled reassuringly. “But you don’t have to worry. I’m going to protect you. No matter what.”

Using the wind to help him Jack lifted Pitch and gently placed him into one of the cages. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t really want to do this but it won’t be for long. Just until I get rid of the Nightmares.” The horses in question were pounding their hooves impatiently and their braying was rising in volume. The attack was coming.

Pitch just stared at Jack. He had no idea what to say. This was the first time anyone had ever tried to help him. Golden eyes met icy blue as Jack smiled brilliantly. He stepped out of the cage and closed the door behind him. Jack was afraid, he could feel it. It was intense and consuming but Jack was more afraid for Pitch’s well-being than he was for his own. Pitch didn’t even know how to comprehend something so selfless.

“You’re going to be ok. The ice will melt when there’s no more danger… or if I die. See you soon boogeyman!” Jack laughed and with a wave of his staff ice formed, spiking up from the ground and down from the ceiling. It curled around the cage, forming a protective barrier. The Nightmares quickly realized what Jack was up to and launched out of the shadows to attack him. He was smashed cruelly from side to side and using the wind to keep most of them at bay he focused instead on strengthening the barrier to protect Pitch.

He was getting hurt right now to protect a man who had almost killed him. Pitch opened his mouth to say something, anything, but it was too late. The barrier was finished and Pitch was locked in an icy prison. The Nightmares grouped together and the last thing he saw was Jack’s calm smile as a wave of darkness crashed into him and swept him away.

Days passed and Pitch sat quietly in his ice prison. His injuries healed quickly and for many days he had heard the battle between Jack and the Nightmares waging outside. Occasionally the light from Jack’s frost lightning would flash through the caves. Then the fight passed to a more distant part of his lair. He had tried impatiently clawing at the ice but it was solid and strong. There was no way out until Jack won, or Jack died. He could only sit here and pray for the former… and wonder why it mattered to him either way.


	2. Violet blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch finally leaves the cage. He looks for Jack. He finds blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's a little short, it's just I get a feeling for when the Chapter should end you know? Chapter usually makes the chapters too long but noooo, now he's doing it the other way.
> 
> Chapter: Just reminding you who's in control.
> 
> sumChick: I hate you
> 
> Chapter: 3:)

Twenty days. Twenty days of hearing the Nightmare’s screams slowly fading as more of them were destroyed. Twenty days of sitting in an ice prison praying that it wouldn’t melt because that would mean that Jack had fallen. Twenty days of waiting, hoping, to see Jack’s face reappear on the other side of the ice. Twenty days of wondering where the rest of the Guardians were and why they weren’t here to protect Jack.

Twenty days and the ice finally cracked.

Pitch looked up from where he had been sitting. His mouth gaping in disbelief. The ice shattered.

It took Pitch a long time to rise and approach the entrance to the cage. He was indeed free. He could no longer hear or feel any Nightmares in the immediate vicinity. Pitch stepped out of the cage and sunk into the shadows. Jack was not in the main room. Quickly darting from shadow to shadow he searched his lair for the wayward teenager. His stomach clenched strangely when he uncovered splatters of violet coloured blood in the halls. Always near quickly melting patches of ice and shards of frozen nightmare sand. Jack had been injured, many times if the various splashes of blood were any indication.

The further away Pitch moved from his cage the more frequent the blood became. Jack must have been getting tired as he fought. Unable to protect himself as well the longer the battle raged. Still, even though the smears of blood were increasing at an alarming rate the longer he looked, there was still not enough yet to be life threatening.

Then he finds an arm.

His breath stutters to a halt and his heart beats impossibly loudly in his chest. Jack’s arm. Laying in a pool of blood severed from his body without the rest of Jack in sight. If he were in his right mind he might question why he was having such a violent reaction to the cold appendage resting too still on the stone floor of his lair. But his mind his blank and his heart feels like it’s trying to rip free from his chest it’s beating so hard. The arm had been severed just above the elbow and it was far too pale even for Jack. Blood streaked carelessly across the skin and Pitch could see teeth marks around the tear. One of the Nightmares… one of _his_ Nightmares had ripped off one of Jack’s arms with its teeth. There’s nightmare sand frozen in hundreds of cruel shapes resembling twisted metal all around him. Making an educated guess Pitch surmised that at least thirty Nightmares were frozen and killed, twisted around in a macabrely beautiful formation lining the tunnel. 

Precious seconds ticked by while Pitch forced himself to control his breathing and move forward. If Jack was still alive then he definitely needed help. If Jack was dead, then the Nightmare King had a few Nightmares he was going to rip to pieces with his bare hands. 

Fuck being afraid.


	3. Tarantino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch finds Jack, Jack is badass, Nightmares can suck it.

After finding the gruesome remains of Jack’s left arm it takes less than a minute to locate the spirit himself.

Jack, broken and covered in blood, leaning against a wall made of frozen black sand. His breathing is labored and his eyes are closed. The hand on the arm he has left his resting on his staff which is laying on the ground next to him. There are cuts and bruises all over his body and he’s much paler than he should be, but still not quite as pale as the arm he’d lost. His clothes are torn and barely holding together, one of his ankles is swollen and a sickly purple color, it is likely broken. The stump where his left arm should be had been iced over crudely, and Pitch guesses it must be to keep the blood loss to a minimum. Considering how much he’s lost elsewhere it’s likely the ice covering his arm has saved his life. It would have hurt though. All of this would have hurt. Jack was likely in immeasurable pain and would probably die if not treated soon.

The fact that someone would actually do this for Pitch once again took the elder spirit’s breath away.

Quickly realizing that he was just staring at Jack while he was lying in a pool of his own blood, possibly a hairs breadth away from dying, Pitch took a step forward. Jack opened his eyes.

Pitch froze, shocked.

“Duck!” Jack cried out but Pitch was too stunned to respond straight away.

Pitch heard a noise behind him like a whinnied snarl. Jack kicked out his feet and catching Pitch’s legs with his own managed to trip him as Nightmare launched out of the shadows. It was no longer simply a horse, while it retained a roughly equine shape his proportions were now over exaggerated. It was happening so fast that as Pitch fell he mainly noticed one thing – it’s claws. The Nightmare had long, sharp claws that curved cruelly and slashed at the space Pitch had occupied moments before. If Jack hadn’t have tripped him he would have been nearly sliced in two.

On his knees Jack swung his staff around and managed to fire off a round of ice that made the Nightmare scream and dart around to try and attack Pitch again. Pitch was sprawled on the ground on his back and he saw the claws coming, glowing golden eyes, twisted maw snarling, Jack’s staff connecting. A blow from the staff pushed the beast back and still on his knees Jack spun around and put himself protectively over Pitch. With a knee on either side of Pitch’s hips and staff held ready in his one hand Jack’s bright eyes scanned the darkness. The Nightmare had vanished into the shadows but it was only a temporary reprieve. The monster was out for blood and Pitch knew that he was the prize.

Jack was broken and he was still defending Pitch.

He would have said something, anything, but he was once again caught in silence. Jack’s chest was almost bare, littered with cuts and bruises. His violet blood stained his pale skin almost… beautifully. Taught muscle, tense and ready to spring into action. Bruises colored his skin and Pitch was transfixed. Jack was… stunning. Slim, but strong. Beautiful, but masculine. Pitch knew it was not the right time to be realizing his attraction to the frost spirit but he was helpless to fight it. Of course the Nightmare quickly snapped Pitch back to reality.

A roar and a rush of wind, the foul breath of a creature that was once a Nightmare and Jack arches his back. With his knees on the ground beside Pitch, Jack manages of curve back until he is almost laying horizontally along the Boogeyman’s legs. Claws hack at the air above him. Pitch is thankful he’s lying flat on his back on the ground. It had a good view and he wasn’t being skewered.

Pitch has a split second to be astonished by Jack flexibility before Jack attacks. He swings up his staff and hooking the crook on the retreating claws he manages to pull himself up to his previously kneeling position. Pitch being here limits his motion as Jack seems unwilling to leave the Nightmare King’s side (or lap, rather). With a flick of his wrist he frees his staff and then swings it around in a circular motion, putting his entire torso into the motion. Ice sprays forth in all directions and from above Pitch’s head a pained wailing scream tears through the tunnel.

Pitch would look at the creature but his eyes are stuck on Jack. When the creature shrieks Jack’s eyes narrow and he focuses his icy glare on his target. His eyes and staff begin to glow and with what looks like an enormous amount of energy Jack brings his staff forward quickly and fires his crackling, frost lightning at the Nightmare. Pitch doesn’t need to look at the monster to know that it’s dead. The sudden silence is evidence enough, broken only by Jack’s breathing which is laced heavily with exhaustion. Pitch wanted to touch him and when he realized that’s what he wanted he surprised himself with the intensity of his sudden desire. He could feel Jack’s legs next to his, the way his knees brushed Pitch’s sides, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

He wanted to run his hands all over him. He wanted to soothe all his injuries… but as soon as the though occurred him Pitch quickly glanced down at the stump of Jack’s left arm and internally winced. The guilt was sharp and hot. It should have cut neatly but Pitch could feel a gaping, jagged chasm opening inside him. This was his fault. He had done this… Jack’s arm… it had looked pretty horrible. Pitch thought it unlikely that it could be saved.

“S-Sorry, thought they w-were all gone.” Jack pants. He groans slightly and lists forward, just managing to catching himself by bracing his good arm on the ground.

Pitch raises his hands but then stops and holds them up rather awkwardly. He wants to touch but he doesn’t know if he should. If Jack still had his other arm right now he’d be on all fours on top of Pitch. Close but barely touching. Pitch doesn’t know what to do or why Jack’s apologizing. “You saved me.” His voice sounded small, distant, astonished. It was more of a declaration than any kind of ‘thank you’ but Jack smiled anyway.

“No problem.” Then Jack groaned again and aimed a glare down at the way his arm was shaking with his weight. “You know, having one arm kind of sucks.” He spoke conversationally. “I mean holding the staff means I can’t do anything but hold the staff. I saw this Tarantino movie one time where this chick had a gun instead of a leg. Maybe I could do that with my staff? Just kind of jam it into the stump or something. It would be awesome.” Jack had lost a lot of blood.

Pitch raised one of his ‘eyebrows’. “I’m not sure that would work.”

Jack snorted. “You’re just jealous. You could never pull that look off.”

“I would not want to.”

Jack opens his mouth but before he can say anything his arm finally gives out. When he lands on Pitch they both let out twin ‘oofs!’ at the sudden impact.

Pitch feels Jack smile against his chest. “I am kind of tired.” He mumbles.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

“You smell kind of good.”

“Jack do not fall asleep.”

“Pitch rhymes with ‘pillow’.”

“No Jack, it really doesn’t. Get off, we have to get up.”

“…”

“Jack?”

“…”

“Perfect.”


	4. Glove slap! It's a love tap!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack confronts the Guardians about their lack of help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Glove Slap' is a comedic parody of the song 'Love Shack' featured in a Simpsons episode. I don't know which one, I could look it up but meh. I don't own the Simpsons. Just in case you couldn't figure that one out :P

There was yelling. There was a lot of yelling and it was loud. Loud yelling. Who would have thought?

Jack usually didn’t have a problem with loud noises but right now his brain was trying to explode out of his eyeballs and he’d been trying to sleep, keeping his eyes closed, to keep it in. He had been doing a pretty good job of it too until one of the voices yelled a little louder and he recognized the smarmy accent. Pitch. Jack’s eyes shot wide with alarm. Pitch was yelling. Pitch was in trouble.

Jack was going to protect him.

So without a second thought Jack did as he always did, acted on instinct. He came up fighting. Reacting before even noticing his surroundings. The thin sheet covering him was the first thing to go. He was shirtless but thankfully whoever put him in the bed had put some pants on him. Green ones. His staff was not in his hands and Jack knew that put him at a severe disadvantage. Also, his left arm was missing, so there was that. He knew he should have shoved his staff into his stump when he had the chance!

A dark shape yelling gibberish approached him and Jack leant back, placing all his weight on his right arm. He swung his legs up and managed to kick the creature in the face before spinning down and pushing off the bed. He managed to land on his feet and noticed that he was in some kind of infirmary, with yetis all around him. Infirmary. Yetis. Disgustingly green pants. Fuck, he was at the pole!

His fear for Pitch grew to new heights as he realized the danger to the Nightmare King was very real.

There was now a wall of yetis in front of him, all holding up their hands in a placating manner while yelling that gibberish nonsense they called a language. Jack spotted his staff on the other side of them, leaning against the opposite wall. Five yetis? Psh! Easy.

Surprise was always the best weapon.

Jack leapt back up onto his bed and used it as a spring board to launch himself over the yetis. He tucked his body and rolled when he landed, grabbing his staff and then bouncing back up to his feet in one smooth motion. He smirked as he felt the ice crawl over the staff and over his body. Oh yeah. The yetis didn’t stand a chance.

The yetis were too surprised and didn’t react quickly enough. Jack figured that he didn’t need to fight them unless they became a threat later on. Right now his priority was Pitch.

A little gust of wind and Jack was sliding on a trail of ice out of the infirmary doors. As he skated past he iced the doors shut so the yetis couldn’t follow. There were stairs that seemed to lead down to the globe room where he could hear Pitch arguing with the Guardians. Taking a few running steps forward, off of his ice, he leapt up onto the railing. Using his ice and wind he iced the railing and sped downwards to the globe room.

There they are. The four Guardians standing aggressively in front of Pitch and Pitch hunched defensively by himself. Four against one… something about this felt so familiar it tugged at his heart. He knew exactly how it felt to be the one the Guardians detested. Jack would never help Pitch harm the children, but if he wasn’t alone all the time, would he even try?

If Jack hadn’t been left alone for so long, would the Blizzard of ’68 have happened?

As he launched himself at the confrontation Jack felt a surge of irritation at the Guardians. How dare they? Jack landed in front of Pitch and spun around with one of his legs out. The Guardians jump back as a layer of ice covers the ground where Jack’s foot touched. Then Jack finishes his spin but standing up and lifting his staff in a jerky movement. Icicles burst from the floor, out of the slick ice he’d created, sharp and almost as tall as Jack curving menacingly towards the Guardians.

A sudden dizzy spell made Jack stumble back a few steps but then warm dark hands were supporting him and holding him steady. Jack threw a grateful smile back at Pitch and then turned back to the Guardians.

When Jack stumbled a bit after his rather dramatic entrance Pitch reacted without thinking. With one hand at the small of his back and one on his upper arm he steadied the teenager. Jack’s skin was cold, but smooth and soft. It felt much more pleasant than Pitch was expecting. When Jack gave him a smile that was so bright and unexpected Pitch’s breath caught in his throat. As cold as Jack’s skin is his smile is brighter than the sun. And so much more beautiful.

When Jack gains his balance he stands tall and firm in front of the Guardians. “So what’s up? Picking on Pitch again? Not really nice to rub it in that we beat him.”

Pitch lets out an annoyed little huff but doesn’t say anything. Tucking his hands sedately behind his back. If he rubs his fingers together slightly to enjoy the cool feeling left over from when he touched Jack’s skin, no one can see it, so it doesn’t matter.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing? You almost died mate! Just look at you! And he-?!” Jack silences Bunny’s rant with a snarl and a jet of ice that freezes his mouth shut.

“He what? What Pitch did to me? He didn’t lay a finger on me. If he didn’t come for me when he did I would be dead. He even brought me here of all places. Pitch was there for me. Where were you?” 300 years of pain and being ignored does not just fade because of one epic alliance. Admittedly Jack worked well with the Guardians but at what cost? Jack had pulled victory from nothing for them and the entire time he’d been with them he’d been met with nothing but prejudice and cold words. And they didn’t even back him up in the end.

“Jack we didn’t know-?” Tooth starts but Jack interrupts her as well.

“No! You don’t get to use that excuse this time. Or ever again. ‘You didn’t know’ isn’t going to cut it. You had my memories this whole time, you are the Guardian of Memories, meant to give childhood memories back to those who need it. How could you not know how badly I needed them?” Tooth flits a little further back and there are tears in her eyes. Jack should feel guilty but he really doesn’t. He turns to North. “I was lost and so alone, I was on the Naughty List for hundreds of years and you still didn’t get it. I just wanted some attention. You didn’t even give me coal. And what about those years I was good? The letters I sent _Santa_ , but those years didn’t matter either? Did they?” North almost folds in on himself when Jack’s words hit him close to his heart. He was right. North had ignored him even when he’d been on the Good List and he had no excuse. “Dear Sandy, how many dreams did you give me? I don’t sleep very often, only when the loneliness gets so bad that I can’t stand it. I curl up and I hope that maybe, just maybe, you will give me a dream. If I had just one good dream, the Blizzard of ’68 would never have happened.” Giant golden globs of sand pool in the Sandman’s eyes and trail down his face. He had seen Jack sleeping once and he had never even thought of giving the young spirit good dreams.

“Don’t you dare blame Sandy for your Blizzard!” Bunny finally manages to rip his mouth free of the ice. “People died in that storm because of you! No one else!”

Jack snorted in disgust. “You. You are the worst of all. You killed my hope.” The ice began to crackle and frost was spreading along the ground.

Bunny glared at Jack and stepped forward, “I felt you that day. During that blizzard you were full of nothing but _hope_!”

Jack laughed but it was a cold sound that made the air around them crackle with the growing ice. “You’re right. We’d met before whenever Winter would run a little longer than it was supposed to. You’d always blame me. You’d beat me up whenever I’d try and join the egg hunts and made sure to tell me how pathetic I was. How dare I carry Winter into your season? I don’t even run winter. I’m just a winter spirit. Mother Nature and the Snow Queen run Winter. I was just in the right place at the right time and you made me suffer for it. And I was full of hope that particular winter. I was so _hopeful_ that my pain was finally going to end. I tried to kill myself, but my powers both saved me and went out of control. Then you came. I had hoped if I taunted you enough you would finish the job for me. Turns out you couldn’t even grant me that, could you Bunnymund? You killed my hope that year because you didn’t kill me even though I hoped you would so, so badly.”

“I am never going to be a Guardian. Why should I? I was a child; you should have protected me. But I guess I wasn’t worth that, was I?”

Silence deafens the room as Jack finishes. Pitch looks at the young spirit with wide eyes. Jack was so strong, so determined. It was hard to imagine the man who had saved Pitch from the Nightmares had ever thought about ending his own life. He seemed so confident now. Pitch ardently hoped that whatever desires Jack had for self-harm had long since abated.

The looks of horror on their faces would have been funny if Jack hadn’t just aired his darkened heart to them. He no longer wished to take his own life, instead devoting himself to helping the children in any way he could. He didn’t stop there however, he made sure he helped anyone who needed him. It was his life and it was the least he could do with it. He may not have been able to be seen but he had always cared. If someone needed him he would always do his best for them. Whether they noticed or not.

“But the man in the moon said…” Tooth tried but trailed off.

Jack openly scoffed. “Yeah, told you I was the new Guardian right. Seem a little strange to you? 300 years of ignoring me just to randomly decide to include me in your little club? Let me ask you something I’m pretty sure I know the answer to. What would happen to you if no one believed in you?”

They shuffled around but it was finally Sandy who stepped forward. A little tombstone of sand appeared above his head.

Jack nodded. “That’s what I thought. So then tell me, what would have happened if I became a Guardian with no believers? Not a single one. If I took the oath the day I was kidnapped and tossed through that portal without a single human soul to believe in me?”

If he thought that they looked horrified before than now they just looked ridiculous. Wide gaping mouths and shocked eyes. Even Bunny dropped out of his defensive stance and looked like he could collapse at any minute as the implications of what Jack was saying finally sunk in.

“What? You almost sentenced me to death and you didn’t even notice? You guys are thicker than I thought.” Jack twirled his staff and rested in on his shoulder. His smile a dark contrast to his usual carefree expression.

“Either way I am not going to be a Guardian. I almost did right at the end, almost thought that this is what I wanted but again you proved to me exactly what you are when you watched Pitch as he was dragged away screaming with smiles on your faces.”

“He’s our enemy!” North tries to interject.

“That you had just defeated. You crushed him with disbelief, there was no need to let him be crushed by the Nightmares as well. Look at what they did to me. You were going to let this happen to Pitch. Worst of all… you wouldn’t have cared. Then after everything you abandoned me again. I’m not sure how long I was fighting the Nightmares but I know that days passed in that hell and none of you came to help. I am not going to be a Guardian. I’m not sure I want anything to do with any of you. Pitch,” He turns suddenly to the Nightmare King and allows his cold expression to warm slightly. Pitch wasn’t the one who had wronged him. “Do you still have my arm?”

Pitch, shocked at so suddenly being addressed, takes a moment to respond. He had to admit he was more than a little impressed that Jack had managed to cow the Guardians with his words. He also noticed that Jack’s softer countenance was solely for him. It made his heart beat a little faster. He nodded quickly and held out his hand as the shadows materialized Jack’s severed arm. It was cold but still raw and violet with bruises and blood. Jack leans his staff against his chest and takes the arm without preamble seemingly completely unfazed.

“Huh.” Jack huffs as he hefts the arm. He really had no regrets. He did the right thing. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if this had happened to Pitch when he could have prevented it. He looks back up at the Nightmare King. “You ever get the urge to beat the crap out of someone with your amputated arm while singing, ‘glove slap! I don’t take crap’?” Jack looks around at the slightly bewildered and disgusted faces of those around him. “No? Must just be me then.” The ice barrier shatters and the room noticeably warms. “Here.” Jack tosses his arm at the Guardians before taking back up his staff. “Collect enough pieces and maybe you can make your own little ‘Jack’ who will be a mindless little Guardian. But I’m done. I did what was right and if you can’t see that then I really don’t think we have anything else to talk about.”

He raises his eyebrows expectantly but the Guardians are still too busy staring down at the detached arm at their feet. He huffs. He figured as much.

“You coming?” He asks Pitch over his shoulder.

Pitch draws himself up. “I no longer have a reason to stay here.”

Jack smiles sweetly. “Good. I hope you like flying.”


	5. Landing in snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pitch and Jack talk a little when they get away from the Workshop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here! Have some emotions! - sorry the chapter's a bit short.

Pitch barely had time to yell out as both he and Jack plummeted to the ground. Jack whooped while laughing and they landed in a tangled pile of limbs in a soft snowbank. Jack had swept them both away on the wind after the confrontation with the Guardians. Pitch hadn’t exactly been prepared for it and the wind just seemed to toss them from point to point through the sky. Jack was far more graceful than Pitch in the sky while the Nightmare King just tried to focus on the fact that while a drop wouldn’t be pleasant but he wouldn’t actually die from it. Not that he thought that Jack would drop him, at least he didn’t right up until Jack dumped them both in the snow.

Pitch sat up and brushed the snow out of his hair while shooting a glare at the frost spirit. Who ignored him in favor of rolling around in the snow with a few more ‘whoops’ and giggles.

“Doesn’t this feel amazing?!” Jack asked as he sat up in a shower of snow. He was grabbing handful after handful of it and rubbing it over his face, in his hair, over his bare chest… and Pitch was having a hard time staying annoyed at Jack for their rather abrupt landing when face to face with so much skin. Jack was flushed slightly violet with exhilaration as he inhaled the crisp air around him, seemingly unaware that he was being stared at.

“The Workshop is too warm. I love the cold, it feels like I haven’t felt real snow in ages!” Jack breaths out and lies back down on his back. “I feel alive Pitch. I feel really… just… alive.” Jack smiled at the sky, the sun was just cresting the horizon and morning was breaking over whatever part of the world Jack had taken them to. He hadn’t been paying too much attention, simply directing the wind to take him somewhere with snow. “It’s amazing but a good fight will do that to you.” Jack said matter-of-factly.

Pitch wondered whether Jack meant the Guardians or the Nightmares. Perhaps both. He also wondered what Jack had to compare it to? He was very skilled to have a lasted so long against the Nightmares. That kind of skill wasn’t something that ordinary spirits were created with. He must have had some form of experience with combat.

Pitch hesitated a moment before speaking, “I didn’t properly thank you for saving me. So,” Pitch took a deep breath, “Thank you.”

Jack smiled and Pitch blushed a little, his cheeks becoming a darker grey. “Don’t worry about it, you can take it as my apology for Antarctica.”

Pitch looked so shocked that Jack couldn’t help but laugh a little as he rubbed some more snow into his skin. It felt amazing against the stump of his arm.

The Nightmare King looked down at his hands, what did Jack mean about apologizing for Antarctica? The way Pitch remembered it he’d been the one who broke Jack’s staff and threw him down a crevasse. He’d even threatened that little Tooth Fairy who had a crush on Jack.

“Why?” Pitch finally asked after puzzling it over in his head for a few minutes. “I did you wrong in Antarctica so why are you apologizing?”

Shaking his head Jack let out a little huff. “No Pitch. _I_ hurt _you_ in Antarctica.” Jack looked down and away from Pitch and the elder spirit couldn’t figure out the strange expression on Jack’s face. “I was angry. I didn’t listen to you at all. I lashed out at you without thinking because of what was happening with the Guardians and what was going on in my head. I’m sorry, you were being sincere back then. You just… You hit a little close to home and I didn’t want to hear it so… yeah. I’m sorry.” Jack’s cheeks were tinged slightly violet and he couldn’t seem to meet Pitch’s eyes.

It took him a moment but when he finally got it his eyes widened marginally. Jack was… ashamed? Of his actions in Antarctica?

“What exactly are you apologizing for?” He asked tentatively, praying that Jack wouldn’t notice how tightly he was holding his hands in his lap.

Jack finally met Pitch’s eyes. “For not giving you a chance when all you did was offer me a… home.” Jack frowned and looked away again. “I won’t help you rule the world Pitch. I can’t… That’s just not how I’m wired. But if you need a friend? Or want a family? I’m right here. If you still want me.”

Letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding Pitch looked at Jack with wide, disbelieving eyes.

How much more could Jack give him? Pitch glanced down at the stump of Jack’s left arm. How much more could Pitch take? Did Jack really choose him over the Guardians?! He didn’t… he couldn’t… Why was Jack doing this? Any of this?! It was too much. All of a sudden it was all just too much and in a rush of shadows Jack found himself sitting alone in the snow.

The winter spirit smiled fondly at the little depression in the snow that Pitch had left behind. He had no doubt they’d be seeing each other again soon. “Scaredy cat.” Jack said quietly with his smile still in place.


End file.
